


all take, none of the mis

by Brinny



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Best Friends, F/M, First Meetings, First Time, Flashpoint (DCU), Friends to Lovers, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Mentions of Dick/Helena, Mentions of Dick/Kory, Mentions of Dick/Zatanna, Mild Sexual Content, POV Dick Grayson, This Only Vaguely Makes Sense, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 17:05:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17881790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brinny/pseuds/Brinny
Summary: "Dick lays next to Barbara in her bed, his hand on the outside of her bare thigh, and thinks, we’ve done this before.In a different universe and in a different timeline (or is it the same universe, but different timeline?), they’ve done this before.They’ve kissed and they’ve touched and they’ve loved before.Haven’t they?"[Guys, all of the multiple DCU canons and reboots and alternate timelines (because of flashpoint or just because of reasons) give me a headache. So, I wrote this whole thing about timelines and universes bleeding into each other. Some of it's past canon or current canon but from different mediums and most of it I just made up.]





	all take, none of the mis

 

 

Dick lays next to Barbara in her bed, his hand on the outside of her bare thigh, and thinks, _we’ve done this before._

In a different universe and in a different timeline (or is it the same universe, but different timeline?), they’ve done this before.

They’ve kissed and they’ve touched and they’ve loved before.

Haven’t they?

 

 

 

“You ever get déjà vu?”

“Yeah, of course,” she says. She rubs her fingers over the end of his jaw and he can hear the slight rasp of his morning stubble under her touch. “Why? Have we had this conversation before, Grayson?”

“Huh?” He gives his head a quick shake and she drops her hand. “No. No, I don’t think so. It’s just, you know how Wally and Barry explained alternate timelines? Flashpoint and all that?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“You think that the other Dick and Barbara made the same choices we did?”

“I don’t know,” she says, slowly. Her teeth tug her lower lip into her mouth as she thinks this over and Dick uses his thumb to pull it out, leans down to kiss her. She smiles. “I’m pretty sure what makes it an alternate timeline is that the choices we made there or then were alternate to what we’re doing here and now.”

“But not everything would be different, right? Some things would have to be the same.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Like, maybe alternate Dick and Babs were together.”

Her brow furrows in confusion. “Dick, we’re together now. I mean, sort of.”

“Yeah, but maybe it wasn’t sort of with them. Maybe it wasn’t all near-misses and almosts. Maybe it was always.”

“Always isn’t forever,” Barbara says.

 

 

 

 

Dick has this memory of Barbara holding a chubby baby against her hip (a little girl who they named Martha, but call Mary) as she moves around their small kitchen, pouring herself coffee and sweeping crumbs off the counter into the sink.

She greets him with a tired smile. “Hello, handsome.”

“Mm. Good morning,” he returns. Gathering her hair up in one hand, he bends to press a kiss low on her neck. She hums in appreciation. “Want to get back in bed?”

“Really, Grayson?” She playfully pushes him off her and he lets her hair drop back down to her shoulders. Narrowing her eyes, she teases, “I know it’s lazy to generalize and, in this context terribly sexist, but you men and your filthy one track minds.”

He leans against the sink and picks up her cup of coffee. After stealing a sip, he says through a smirk, “I actually meant I could go into work late today if you needed the extra sleep. I know you were up with her most of the night.” He gives her a wink, nudging at her knee with his foot. “But, hey, if you wanna get filthy, I’m all down for that too.”

“Oh, no. Nuh-uh. I value my _zzz_ s too much right now,” she says. “But we should rain check on that other thing. Definitely.”

Barbara shifts Mary into Dick’s arms, kissing his cheek quickly before she disappears into the bedroom, eager to crawl back under the covers. His daughter stares up at him with a gummy smile.

“Well, Mare-Bear, it’s just you and me. Wanna do the ABCs? Yeah?” he asks. Mary blinks and a bubble of spit pops on her open lips, which Dick takes as a yes. “Okay. So, A is for Arkham, B is for Batman, C is for Catwoman, D is for detective.”

He pauses, trying to think of something for the next letter, when Mary lets out a small cry. Knowing that she’s already been fed (he sleepily watched as Babs cradled her against her breast this morning) and checking her diaper to confirm that she doesn’t need to be changed, he rocks her gently until she settles. After a few minutes, Mary drifts off to sleep lulled by Dick’s swaying arms and the soft _shhing_ sound he makes in between his continued alphabet nonsense (he gets up to “W is for wingdings”) and he can’t picture anything more perfect than this moment.

His heart aches pleasantly in his chest, all full of love and happiness.

But this didn’t happen, did it?

Not to him. Maybe to another Dick and another Barbara. (Or are they all the same?) Except, he remembers it. He remembers all of it. And the ache he feels now is desperate and longing, this painful squeeze of his heart that he doesn’t know how to fix.

 

 

 

 

Dick remembers meeting Barbara for the first time.

He remembers standing on the GCPD rooftop and seeing her peek out from the stairwell door. He remembers being thirteen and awkward, trying hard not to stare at the red of her hair and the pink of her cheeks.

He remembers Commissioner Gordon saying, “Not on your life, Boy Wonder.”

 

 

 

 

Dick remembers meeting Barbara for the first time.

He remembers sitting in the assigned seat next to hers in homeroom (Gordon before Grayson) and watching her raise her hand as the teacher called roll. He remembers her school uniform, her black skirt and the tight knot of her tie. He remembers her long, bare legs with freckles on her knees, tucked beneath the desk.  

He remembers her laugh after he tells her, “Call me Dick.”

He remembers her disbelievingly saying, “No, wait. Are you serious? For real?”

 

 

 

 

Dick remembers meeting Barbara for the first time.

He remembers checking out a book at the library. He remembers checking out the librarian more.

 

 

 

 

Dick remembers meeting Barbara for the first time.

He remembers the swirl of her cape as she swung past him. He remembers showing off, with unnecessary flips and somersaults through the air, racing to catch up with her. He remembers being sure that he’s met his match.

He remembers learning her name, thinking it was old-fashioned.

He remembers deciding to call her Babs, forever and always.

(This is how it happened, right? Just like this.)

 

 

 

 

“How come we never got married?”

“Well, the obvious answer is that you never asked me.”

“What kind of archaic, misogynistic bullshit is that?” he asks. He moves his hand through her hair, wrapping a loose curl around two fingers, and rests his chin on top of her head. “You never asked me either.”

“Okay. Fair enough.”

“What about the less obvious?”

“Less obvious answer is probably why I never asked you,” she says. When she shrugs, her shoulder touches to his cheek.  “I just don’t think I want to get married. And not, not just that I don’t want to marry you. I mean, I don’t think I want to at all. Like, I can’t even imagine it.”

Dick can imagine it. Dick has imagined it. He’s dreamt it and he’s felt it and, maybe, he’s even lived it.

“I think you’d get married if the right person asked you.”

“Dick Grayson, of every person in the whole world, you are the most right. You’re the rightest of all the people,” she says. Her mouth teases into a smile that he can’t see, but he can feel it where she’s pressed against his chest. “If not you, then who?”

He thinks about a Dick Grayson down on one knee with a velvet box in his hand. He thinks about a Barbara Gordon tearfully accepting his proposal to love her forever and ever and ever. He thinks about a letter, a ring, and a photograph of a young Batgirl and an even younger Robin. He thinks about Barbara wearing a white dress, laughing as he lifts her out of her chair to carry her over the threshold, because even though it’s kind of corny and cliché, it’s also kind of romantic.  

And then he thinks about Jason Bard and gets a sinking feeling in his stomach as he thinks about Barbara with a very large diamond on a very important finger.

But that’s wrong. That didn’t happen. None of it did. Not to him. Dick never asked and Babs never said yes. He never mailed her a ring with a promise to wait for her. They never got married. She and Bard were never engaged.

Dick feels sick.

“You think that you wouldn’t Babs, but you would.”

 

 

 

 

Dick dreams about sitting on rooftop ledges, kissing Helena. He dreams about late nights in the Titans Tower, with Kory coming undone on his fingers. He dreams about Zatanna saying his name backwards, over and over, like he’s the one who’s magic.  

He dreams about when he and Barbara were kids. He dreams about the two of them on her small, twin-sized bed in the apartment she shared with her dad. He dreams about their mouths shyly pressing together before they promised to be best friends forever.

Which one is the lie? Which one is the truth?

Which one happened to the Dick Grayson that he is now?

 

 

 

 

Dick has this memory of Barbara wearing a glittery dress, dancing and flirting at some charity fundraiser held at the Manor. Small, white lights are strung up in the backyard and the soft glow reflects off the sequins of her bodice, making her freckles look like sparkles.

He comes up behind her and lifts the strap on her dress to press a kiss to her bare shoulder. Her smile is a little distracted, but genuine. Handing her a glass of champagne, he gently holds his hand at her elbow, his mouth on her neck now. Barbara moves into the touch, but holds the glass out in front of her like it’s a prop.

“Did you know he was back in town?” she asks.

Dick follows her gaze towards Bruce, who is standing at the other end of the lawn, charming some girl who looks vaguely like Vicki Vale if she were ten or so years younger.

“Yes,” he says, slow and a little unsure. It sounds like a question. “Is that a problem?”

“What? No. Of course not.” She touches her lower lip to the rim of the champagne flute and then pulls it back. “He’s okay with us, right?”

Smiling, Dick slides an arm across her stomach and bends to whisper into her ear. “Us? Did you just use a plural pronoun to mean you and me in a romantic sense? You better watch it, Babs. Soon you’ll be saying we’re in a relationship.”

“We are. Sort of,” she says. She nudges him with her hip and makes a face, but he keeps smiling and then it’s hard for her not to smile back. He laughs at her. “Shut up.”

“Yes, Bruce is okay with us.”

“Really?”

“C’mon, Babs.” He closes his lips over the soft skin of her ear. “You know you and me, we’re all take, none of the mis.”

She rolls her eyes. “I hate it when you do that.”

“You love me,” he accuses.

Turning in his arms, she reaches up to catch his mouth in a soft, quick kiss. “I really do. I also really hate when you do that, though.”

His heart aches pleasantly in his chest, all full of love and happiness. Because this happened. Dick fell in love with Barbara just like this.

 

 

 

 

Dick remembers having sex with Barbara for the first time.

He remembers her in just her underwear, sitting in his lap. He remembers his fingers skimming over her breasts, her stomach, and the start of her hip, before reaching between her legs.

He remembers being terrified of her dad catching them.

He remembers burying his head in the soft spot where her neck met her shoulder, trying to think about anything other than being inside of her, because it’s his first time with _anyone_ and he wants it to last more than thirty seconds. He remembers that not working. At all.

 

 

 

Dick remembers having sex with Barbara for the first time.

He remembers her looking back at him, wrapped in bedsheets.

And he remembers her looking back at him, crumpled wedding invitation in her fist.

 

 

 

Dick remembers having sex with Barbara for the first time.

He remembers training in the Batcave. He remembers pressing her up against the wall, the heels of her sneakers digging into the small of his back. He remembers his tongue dipping into the hollow of her throat and tasting the saltiness of her sweat-stained skin.

He remembers pushing into her, quick and dirty.  

He remembers how she put her mouth next to his ear so she could whisper, “harder, faster, please, so good, don’t stop.”

 

 

 

Dick remembers having sex with Barbara for the first time.

He remembers them kissing for what seemed like hours. He remembers looking into her eyes as he unbuttoned her shirt, hands trembling, asking, “Are you sure?”

He remembers finally seeing her naked. He remembers saying, “Jesus Christ, Babs. Do you know how beautiful you are?”

He remembers stroking at her with his fingers, his thumb rubbing in circles until she came. He remembers trying to memorize how her lips parted slightly, how her skin flushed until she was pink all over.

(This was the first time. Just like this. And Dick remembers the second and the third and the forth and every time after.)

 

 

 

 

“You ever get déjà vu?”

“All the time.”

“Do you think it was like this? In a different timeline and a different universe?”

“Like what?”

“Do you think there was always a Dick Grayson who loved a Barbara Gordon?”

“I hope so.”

 

 

 

 

 

Dick kisses Barbara.

Her mouth opens under his, full of desperate want and need. His hand comes up to her cheek, thumb stroking along the delicate curve of her jaw. Babs moves against him, beneath him, with him, until all he can feel is her.

 _We’ve done this before_ , he thinks.

They’ve done this before. They’ve kissed and they’ve touched and they’ve loved before.  

Haven’t they?

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all, I need a flow chart to keep up with all the changes DC keeps doing. I honestly have NO IDEA is actually happening with Dick and Babs in the comics right now. Like, I know all about that terrible Ric abomination, but ask me about their history and I'm like, "They're friends? I think they've slept together. Pretty sure they have. And still are/were? And they're the same age? Which is young. I think. Younger than the last reboot, like in their early twenties, right? They maybe/sorta dated as teens? No? All of that is wrong?" And then I just throw my hands up in frustation.


End file.
